Julian Stockwin
Tyger
(Thomas Kydd – 16)
Kydd Sea Adventures by Julian Stockwin
KYDD
ARTEMIS
SEAFLOWER
MUTINY
QUARTERDECK
TENACIOUS
COMMAND
THE ADMIRAL’S DAUGHTER
THE PRIVATEER’S REVENGE*
INVASION
VICTORY
CONQUEST
BETRAYAL
CARIBBEE
PASHA
*Published in the U.K. as TREACHERY
To Keith
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
*indicates fictitious character
*Sir Thomas Kydd, captain of HMS Tyger
*Nicholas Renzi, Lord Farndon, friend and former confidential secretary
TYGER, SHIP’S COMPANY
*Borden, master’s mate
*Bowden, replacement second lieutenant
*Bray, replacement first lieutenant
*Brice, replacement third lieutenant
*Clinton, Royal Marines captain
*Darby, gunner
*Dawes, boatswain
*Dawkins, able seaman
*Digby, quartermaster’s mate
*Doud, seaman
*Flynn, steward
*Gordon, carpenter’s mate
*Haffner, able seaman
*Halgren, captain’s coxswain
*Harman, purser
*Herne, replacement boatswain
*Hollis, first lieutenant
*Jemmy, ship’s boy
*Joyce, replacement master
*Le Breton, sailing master
*Legge, carpenter
*Maynard, master’s mate
*Nowell, third lieutenant
*Oxley, surgeon
*Paddon, second lieutenant
*Payne, lieutenant of Marines
*Pinto, seaman
*Pollard, bosun’s mate
*Smyth, master’s mate
*Stirk, gunner’s mate
*Tully, master-at-arms
OTHERS
Adams, master shipbuilder of Beaulieu
*Bazely, captain, Fenella
Bellingham, British prisoner in Archangel
Bennigsen, Count, commander of coalition forces in East Prussia
Blucher, Generalleutnant, aide to King Friedrich
*Blunt, Muscovy Company
Bourne, secretary of the Treasury during Pitt’s office
Browne, former master attendant at Cape of Good Hope
*Cecilia, nee Kydd, Lady Farndon
Collingwood, admiral, commander-in-chief Mediterranean
Davout, French general
Dundas, first lord of the Admiralty
*Engelhardt, subaltern friend of Gursten
Essington, rear admiral
*Felkins, London solicitor
*Gursten, Flugelleutnant, staff lieutenant in Prussian headquarters
*Hohenlau, Generalleutnant, Prussian commander under Bennigsen
*Horner, Arctic pilot
*Hozier, captain, Lively
Jervis, Earl St Vincent
Jervis, Mr, nephew of Earl St Vincent, crown prosecutor in Popham court-martial
*Knowles, reporting agent
Labanoff, Russian cavalry general
*Marceau, captain, Preussen
*Miss Sophy, young London socialite
Mulgrave, first lord of the Admiralty
*Parker, former captain of Tyger
Phillip, rear admiral, Impress Service
Popham, Sir Home, senior post captain
Popov, mayor of Archangel
*Purvis, Renzi’s butler
*Rogers, captain, Stoat
Russell, vice admiral
Scharnhorst, Prussian chief of general staff
Soult, French general
*Stuart, foreign office
Victor, French general
Voronov, Kapitan, port captain of Archangel
Wilkinstone, rear admiral
Young, admiral, president of court-martial
CHAPTER 1
L’AURORE WAS NEW-MOORED off the legendary Plymouth Hoe. After so long at sea, and the strangeness and allure of foreign shores, it was gratifying to take in the deep green softness of England.
“Do excuse my not seeing you ashore, Renzi old fellow,” Captain Sir Thomas Kydd said, taking his friend’s hand warmly. “You know I’m bound to sail back to Cadiz to rejoin the fleet and-”
“Dear chap, allow that I’ve a modicum of experience in the sea service and do respect your bounden duty. To be borne back to England in your inestimable bark has been more than my deserving.”
Kydd’s commander-in-chief, Admiral Collingwood, had been generous in allowing the frigate that had rescued this peer of the realm from a Turkish prison to continue on to England. Now they must part-Renzi to his seat in Wiltshire and Kydd to restore HMS L’Aurore to the blockading fleet as soon as possible.
“You’ll give my respects to Cec-that is, your noble wife, won’t you?” That his young sister had married an earl and was now a countess was still a thing of wonder to Kydd.
“I will. Providing I have your promise that you’ll honour us with a visit just as soon as you’re able?”
“You may count on it, Nicholas.”
He watched his closest friend swing over the bulwarks and, with a last wave, descend into the boat hooked on alongside. He heard his coxswain Poulden’s gruff “Bear off-give way together,” and saw it stroke smartly off.
It had been this way before: a boat bearing Renzi shorewards after far voyaging, once after the near-mortal illness that had ended his naval career, and again after his high-minded but doomed attempt to start a new life in New South Wales, Kydd himself, as a lowly sloop commander, heading ashore to social ruin after spurning an admiral’s daughter for a country girl. But now he and Renzi were immeasurably different creatures.
The first lieutenant broke in on his thoughts with a discreet cough.
“Yes, Mr Curzon?”
“The carpenter asks if he might have a word.”
The mild and obliging Legge came forward with a worry frown fixed in place and touched his hat. “Sir Thomas, m’ duty, an’ I begs to know how long we’m here at all.”
“Why do you need to know that, Mr Legge?”
“Me an’ m’ mates had another look at that garb’d an’ I has m’ strong doubts about ’un.”
“Go on.”
“It’s druxy timbers, I’d swear on it.”
Kydd’s expression tightened. This was not good news: the carpenter suspected rot, and in the worst part of the ship-the garboard strake was the range of planks that met the keel, all but impossible to get to from inboard. It was, as well, the natural resting place for bilge water. In those dark and secretive spaces, ill-ventilated and never to be kissed by sunlight, it would be the first to yield to the insidious miasma that would turn to rank decay.
It was said to have been the cause of the loss of Royal George at anchor in Spithead, with the deaths of her admiral and nine hundred souls-the bottom had dropped out of her. And so many other ships had put to sea to disappear for ever, meeting a lonely fate far out on the ocean when rotten timber deep within their bowels had given way under stress of storm.
“Very well, Mr Legge. I’ll send for a dockyard survey.”
They arrived promptly and disappeared below with their augers and probes but came back up with dismaying haste. The extracted sample told it alclass="underline" instead of tough, dark timber, this was spongy, white-veined-and spurted foul water when squeezed.
Kydd went cold.
“We recommends you comes in f’r a better look, like,” the shipwright surveyor said impassively.
L’Aurore went to the trots in the Hamoaze opposite the dockyard, joining the long line of pensioned-off vessels and others for repair to await her fate.
A frigate, however, was worth every effort to retain for service and no time was lost in bringing out the master shipwright and his team. L’Aurore was heeled and investigated and the contents of her hold discharged into lighters alongside. Then her footwaling, the inside planking, was taken up to expose her innards.